


In Which Gumshoe is an Insufficient Guard Dog

by Red



Series: Untitled Werewolf Nonsense [3]
Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not ever posted to the meme, this story really doesn't make too much sense outside of the sprawling unwritten AU of "Miles is a Werewolf Who Needs His Packmate, Gumshoe, to Protect His Human Boyfriend from the Evils of Vampiric Gavins." Phoenix finds a strange dog in an alley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Gumshoe is an Insufficient Guard Dog

Kicking at a stone idly, watching it skitter down the absolutely ordinary barren street, Phoenix tried to reassure himself for the fifth time that night that he just had an overactive imagination. Really, it was a nice night out: the street was well-lit, he had a nice steaming bowl of Eldoon's to-go in his possession, and most importantly, he was completely on his own. 

Everything was quiet and normal, and there was absolutely no one--and _nothing_ \--watching him. 

It would have been a lot more easy to convince himself of this fact, he thought, were this not the five hundredth time he'd had to talk himself out of looking behind every car and trash can in the city since Miles had left town. 

Overactive imagination, that was all. He nervously transferred the bag of carry-out from one hand to the other. Yep, he was pretty sure that he'd read something online somewhere, some scientific study on how a lack of sex made healthy adult attorneys irrationally paranoid...

A sudden clatter of metal close by nearly made him drop the noodles. To his defense, it did occur to him for a moment that, hey, spooky stalker following him around for three weeks, maybe he shouldn't try to give chase. But as he heard another loud thud followed by the shattering crash of breaking glass, he knew that whatever it was following him around, it was at least worried about being spotted and clumsy enough to knock over two trash cans. Whatever happened--and, turning to follow the racket into a dead-end alleyway, he knew a confrontation was at hand--he just wanted an end to the nightly worries about getting mugged.

Facing the dead-end, he blinked. For a moment, dark as the alley was, he saw nothing. Stepping over the trail of trash from the upturned can, he looked more carefully. Surrounded by buildings at all sides, there was no way whoever it was could have run off; and even he knew that people didn't just disappear.

"Hey," he said, pretending his voice sounded vaguely commanding, thinking that businesses should really be made to light their back entrances better, because didn't this sort of atmosphere encourage violent crime, "Uh, whoever you are--" 

Stopping abruptly, he had to laugh. Good thing no one else was there in the alley to see him get so nervous about a silly old dog: he could just make out the tip of a bushy black tail, peeking from behind the dumpster at the back of the alley. He whistled softly. 

"Aww, don't be scared, boy," he called, trying to peer behind the dumpster to catch a better look at the stray, "C'mon, doggie."

In an attempt to make himself invisible, the dog nearly toppled the entire dumpster. Phoenix took a wary step back, more worried about getting coated in trash than being bitten by this klutz of a stray. From what he could see, the dog was a fairly large one, and he wondered how no one had noticed it before. Especially given the dog's lack of regard for keeping trash cans upright...

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed. He couldn't help feel sorry for the big guy, shivering away like that. Thinking quickly on the matter, Phoenix realized it was likely that, all these nights, it was just this dog following him. Without Miles around, he'd been keeping late hours: making sure the toilet was clean enough at the office before eventually picking up something cheap and quick to eat in front of the lonely glow of late-night reruns. This poor little--err, big--guy was probably just hungry, trailing him in hopes for a snack.

He eyed the noodles. The salt hadn't killed him yet, he was pretty sure the dog would be okay with just one serving. Opening the bag, he pulled the top of the container off and set it carefully on the ground. Taking a few paces back, giving the shy dog some space, Phoenix whistled again.

"Want some noodles, boy? C'mere, come on," he called. 

From behind the dumpster, the dog whined low and sad once; one of those mournful deep big-dog noises. It didn't turn, but he saw the unsteady, almost nervous beginning of a tail-wag. 

"They're so good," he promised. "Extra salty, and no onions. Just, uh... Just like dogs love?" 

"Whuu-uuhf," the dog replied sadly, stubbornly staying put--save for the tail.

Well, this was crazy. Why was he begging with a dog to get him to eat his noodles? 

And why was the dog acting like he was about to get whipped?

"Look, dog, I know you've been begging for weeks. Please, just eat the-- _whoa_."

The dog had backed up to turn around, and Phoenix nearly jumped. The creature wasn't just big, he was huge--maybe six feet, nose to tail--and not quite like any dog he'd ever seen. It actually looked more like a big, shaggy black wolf than any domestic canine. For a minute, he wondered if maybe the reason the dog hadn't been caught was because it had eaten all the dog-catchers. Yet, there was something so absurdly... well, hang-dog... about the dog's expression, and something so clumsily unthreatening in the way it shambled shyly toward him, that Phoenix couldn't imagine the beast hurting anything much more sentient than a dumpster. 

The dog-- _wolf_ , Phoenix corrected himself--sat hesitantly in front of the container, tail thumping on the ground. It was sort of sweet, the way he tried to look at Phoenix, not the noodles. "Waa-aahhn?" the wolf tried, before glancing forlornly at the food again.

"Uh, I don't speak dog, you know," Phoenix said, before he had to admit aloud that the wolf didn't speak human, either. The wolf just licked his chops at the noodles in reply, and whined in what almost seemed like an absent-minded manner.

"You're the first wolf I've seen who's this excited by pasta. Though, I guess you are the first wolf I've seen..." the wolf tilted his head at that, as if curious, "Anyway, go ahead. They're all yours."

The wolf made a happy-sounding sound, nearly a bark, and began lapping up the salty broth. 

Phoenix grinned. He supposed he should call animal control--or maybe the zoo--but for now, he was glad to have made friends. Crouching on the ground, he watched the wolf snap up the food, errant noodles flopping messily over his bristly muzzle. 

"Hungry, huh? You know, I bet Miles would kill me if he knew I was feeding you this junk," he said to himself. Wow, he'd have to watch his imagination--he could have sworn the wolf flinched at Edgeworth's name. "Well... What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" 

The wolf lapped the container clean, before drawing a paw over his muzzle as if to tidy up. He yapped once, as if to agree, or maybe thank Phoenix for the food. 

Shaking his head, Phoenix told himself that he had to watch the anthropomorphism. This was just an oversized dog, and dogs just didn't look nervous about the mention of prosecutors.

Nevertheless, as he stood back up (thinking as he did that he just couldn't bring himself to call animal control--after all, Miles liked dogs, right?) he couldn't help parting with one more comment to the dark-furred wolf.

"Well, if you don't tell him, I won't. Deal?"

" _Woof_."


End file.
